Does anybody really know what time it is ...
If so, I can't imagine why ... - Robert Lamm, Chicago
There’s a song about a time for every purpose under heaven. A
time to be born, a time to die, a time to plant and a time to reap.
Turn, turn, turn, is the refrain of this song that gets its words from the bible.
But does time really turn over? Or is that just how we
experience it?
My yoga practice is pretty athletic. It does not
involve any deep thought about time or space, but afterwards it seems to put my
mind in exactly that place.
For me, the practice makes a space where I can
access some kind of spark that I think has been inside since the day I was born
and that’s perhaps been in all of us since the beginning of time.
This might sound oh-so-philosophical, but it’s something I
experience at a very base level.
I get home from yoga, have something to eat, put my clothes in
the wash and draw a bath.
I climb in and sit there and all I feel is gratitude. The water
is warm and so is my heart.
I have even said some blessings aloud in the tub, and in this
space and time, they include those with whom I've shared love and with whom I've shared hurt. In these expansive moments that follow my practice, I can see
all the lessons that have come my way.
It might sound strange, but I think we all carry this inner
spark. And if we expand enough to access it, our stories can
start to make sense.
It's almost as if this expansion illuminates the big picture
that is our lives.
Some people think of this spark as the Divine, as the Light, as the energy source that is God. Whatever it is, I
think I’ve discovered that I can access it through yoga.
I find the ignition of this spark to be bright
and brief. So, to find it again, I have to keep going back to the mat.
My yoga practice has led to a lot of reading about Kabbalah, the
study of Jewish mysticism. Kabbalah explains that this lifetime is one of many
that our souls experience, and it teaches that before we are born, we reside
with the Spark itself, in a place where there is no space and time. And it’s
there where we can see the picture that is our lives, like a jigsaw puzzle with
all the pieces fitting neatly together in a story that makes sense.
Kabbalah teaches that it’s the choice of our souls to journey back
to earth, and that it's here where new chapters are written as we put together
our pieces by correcting things within ourselves.
Such are our soul corrections and such is the purpose of our
lives.
Supposedly, we have to live many lifetimes to do this work. The
ancient teachings of many religions speak to this, the reincarnation of past
lives and the journeys of our souls.
All of this has made me reconsider the concept of time. Perhaps
it’s not as linear as I once thought. Perhaps it’s not that every season turns;
rather, it’s we who return to every season.
I once took a yoga class that was choreographed in the round. We
set up our mats in a circle, and we ourselves moved in circles. No one faced
front, and we never left our mats but instead journeyed ‘round and ‘round,
returning again and again to where we started.
It was disconcerting to practice this way, but I was surprised
that by the end of class, I felt somehow restored. Something about it put
matters right, as if I had gotten some kind of chance to return and correct,
even if not consciously so.
So maybe our lives are like that practice, and we’ve been ‘round
on this journey before, putting matters right while even traveling
alongside some of the people we now know.
This idea of time and space is captured in a touching
performance of A Song For You by three famous friends, Leon Russell,
Willie Nelson and Ray Charles
(view
here). Willie is crying as he knows Ray is dying, moved by the
lyrics, I’ve loved you in a
place where there’s no space and time.
We are lucky if we have felt such love in this lifetime. If we
have, then we’ve gotten a glimpse of that lit-up gift that is the spark inside,
and we’ve experienced something seemingly eternal even if it’s not lasting.
This place where there’s no space and time seems to also be
where I find myself when I paint and when I write. It’s where the colors flow
and the words appear. When I look at the final product, I think, How did that get there? Where did the time go?
How did I do that?
And right away I know I could never recreate what’s on the paper
because I am back in real time.
Real time is where we learn our lessons. It’s where we have to
be in order to get back to that place where there is no space and time. And if
we are aware, we can recognize when we are graced with snippets of this
timeless space, the place where our blessings reside.
Somehow, the practice of yoga takes me there. The hour plus
class goes by in no time at all, and I am always grateful for whatever
glimpse I get.
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